


Somethings Hit Harder than Most

by LightingNike



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Family, Depressed Tony Stark, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Insomniac Tony Stark, It’s chill bro, Light torture (mentioned), Other, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, its not that bad, it’s not that bad nothing bloody, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightingNike/pseuds/LightingNike
Summary: Being kidnapped doesn’t treat Tony well. Neither do his feelings.“I’m fine”That doesn’t do him any well either. He couldn’t sleep, eat, even work. Tony became the shell of the man he once was.“We’re here to help too along with being your friends”Maybe they could. Maybe tony had someone to lean on.
Relationships: Avenger Team Family, Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Tony Stark & Clint Barton, Tony Stark & Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark & Thor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 64





	Somethings Hit Harder than Most

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This has been done for a few months, maybe a year, and I just added a few sentences and was like post it. So I hope you like it I guess!

Now Tony remembered that being kidnapped sucked. It was his first time after Afghanistan and it wasn’t treating him well. 

They always seemed to put him through the ringer. Through hell and back. Every little ‘experiment’ they did Tony would end up on the verge of dying. He could hear the screams of his teammates, his so-called friends maybe even family, yelling and cursing at them to stop. Or maybe it was just some other prisoner. But tony didn’t even resist the pleasure of thinking that they were gone. That they escaped without him. And maybe that was better than with him. 

They were the simplest torture ideas, but also the trickiest. They made you think, ‘I could do this’ but in the end you were unconscious. The type that stopped your heart for a few seconds. The ones that made you wish you were dead without ever being inflicted pain by human touch. It killed you from the insides, in a mess of the mushed up rooms. 

Now Natasha, Steve, and Clint. They did nothing compared to Tony. They would just run, run from mammals like lions, fight lions, fight monsters. Just do their daily jobs. They would come back to their little cell with sweat on their face, no broken bones, no deep breaths, no pain, no nothing.

But tony barely saw them for all the time they were fixing up his broken down body, and testing him again and again that he never really visited that cell much. It would be a special day if he saw the three. 

But today was something new. Yesterday they put him in a clear glass box, upside down, and they forgot to mention one little thing to him. There wasn’t any air. His head was forced in a little hole, locked in, and they sucked out the air. This wouldn’t seem as bad as the other experiments but he had heart problems. Bad ones that always required something; he was surprised he hadn’t died already. But today was special they said.

The made him catch bricks. Falling from the ceiling one by one. Most people could do this, Tony could do this, he could he really could. Honest. 

“Show your strength. And you might not have to go for a little swim!” They told him. 

He would much rather drown then carry the massive brick slates. 

But Tony couldn’t die. He could never die. Even before this hell hole, when he wasn’t Iron Man, he just couldn’t die. The thoughts of silently slipping off out of existence that creeped into his mind were shoved against with work. People needed him, they expected things from him, they depended on him. If he wasn’t here, who was going to make their tech? Who were they going to call stupid? Impulsive? Immature? Who was going the take the hits and wear down slowly till death does catch up with him? It’s Tony. It all comes in a package wrapped neatly along with the name of Stark. He had to be there. And no one was there for him.

He could hear roars screaming against the walls. He could see the water he was soon going to die in. He could feel the pain as the bricks dropped into his arms, two turned into five. Five turned into seven and seven turned into nine and nine turned into 12 and12turnedinto. . .. He would smell the rotten air and his captors morning breath. He could taste the desperation, the hope, to leave this god awful place. The pressure of his world. 

They all attacked him at once, picking and stabbing at his brain, killing his emotions and actions. There really wasn’t reason in his life it seemed. To wake up and suffer was how the world operates for him. And he was done. Done with the heartbreak, the pain, the feelings, his friends! He didn’t even know if they were alive! Didn’t know what they were doing, if they where tortured, if they even escaped without him! If they planned to come save him!

No, this world was everyone for themselves. No thinking for others benefits because if you do all you’ll get in return is a stab wound. Life was supposed to be done solo, Tony thought. Friends were for the weak. Family was for the tired. And being desolate for the strong. Being barren of all feelings for others and false hope. To just be empty sounded like the only way to live without a constant pain in your chest. 

The bricks continued to fall as Tony’s arms buckled down. They hadn’t been here very long, only a month. At this little game, only thirty minutes for Tony, while the others were running. A tiger this time to spice it up. 

But today Natasha saw a little opening in the wall. It was small but could fit a human body. Her slim body seemed just the size to slide in from eyes distance. She ran toward it, dodging the tiger and slipped in. Blood dripped from her arm and ankle but she continued to tread. 

Her eyes locked on Tony. She hadn’t seen him in a week, last time he was unconscious, but now? Now she saw why. Bricks piled on his arms as he barely taken cover to his knees. She could see the water underneath the glass and her reflection. She looked a mess but tony was much worse; sweat drenching his t-shirt and arms, hair matted and poking out in crazy angles, the blisters on his arms and legs. But his face was the most disturbing, a mix of ancient agony plastered on his face with no tears, no sense of anger, no hope. He was the look of an worn out old man. A man done with this world, a world he didn’t want to be apart of. 

Natasha saw Steve and Clint slip through their own little holes and met their eyes. She slowly walked towards them, as Tony focused on the thin massive bricks, she shifting her weight on the glass. 

“He’s not going to last any longer, you know. And I bet they’ve made him do much worse. We got to put the escape plan in action soon.” She whispered. Steve was still looking at tony. The bricks were getting taller than him and seeing this man, doing what Steve thought he couldn’t, shifted something in him. Something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, that caused pain to crawl under his skin like bugs crawling on leftover food.

“Yeah, but Tony needs to heal from this. And we need to help him now.” Clint replied. 

Then he gave up. Tony dropped the bricks and the glass went out under his feet. The three started to hear cracks, slicing through the air, as they began to fall as well. Under the water tony was bleeding and unconscious. His arms and his head dyed the water with the color red. Maybe drowning wouldn’t be that bad. Yeah, he really didn’t want to drown but in this moment? This moment where life just straight up wasn’t going his way. It seemed like an wonderful way to die. Even though he didn’t know he was drowning, he could feel himself slipping away from reality. From existence really.

Natasha and Steve swam towards him, pulled his arms, and brought him to the surface. The water started to drain out as their captors took Tony away. Steve ran after them, but Natasha held him.

“They gotta fix him up first before we can get out of here Rogers. We don’t want him bleeding out on the fresh snow before we get to the safe house.” 

The guards came to get them and threw them rather harshly in their cell. They sat by the wall, fully awake, waiting for tony. Once tony was in this cell they were leaving for good. 

They couldn’t believe tony was going through things like this. Yeah, they always saw him asleep but knew that he wasn’t ever pushed to the limit physically like this. Tony never talked about his past and what he had been through. And from the act he puts up, no one would know. They thought he was just running like them. But not with their speed of course so his injuries were kinda expected. But now from watching this, they knew he was stronger than ever. And they wouldn’t let him go through it any more. 

3 hours later, he was carried into the cell. 

6 hours later, the building was in ashes. 

__________________

“We need medical. Now!” Natasha yelled through the SHIELD helicopters. 

It was chaotic but not for the right reasons. Agents were flying around, ordering people around, and making messes all around. The group of medics took Tony from Steve’s arm. Steve walked behind them, on guard. Him and Shield wasn’t the best of friends. They put Tony on a stretcher and took him into a room. Steve wasn’t allowed to go in they told him. But from Steve’s view from the window, it looked like they were going to do a lot. The wires and cords and beeps. Tony looked dead and those wires were the only thing keeping him alive. He would shake and another wire would go in his bloody body. It wasn’t right. 

And Steve worried. And worried and worried and worried. 

It was like that for hours. Just sitting outside that door until he was let in. But tony was ok. They said he was ok and will be ok and that was ok. Steve could accept that information. Steve was thankful for that information. 

It seemed that Tony wasn’t. Once out of the Shield medical of course. 

He really didn’t put any motivation to any task he was given. He would do as he was told, ordered as it seemed to him, but with a dreary look of overwhelming tiredness. The only other emotion he would show was a forced tired smile that tricked people from helping him. He wouldn’t sleep; he wouldn’t work; he wouldn’t eat. He would sit with the Avengers, eat with the Avengers but only about a forth of his plate, and puke all of it when he was alone. Tony just couldn’t stomach anything, not even his dark coffee. 

But the conversations with him wasn’t all that great either. He would answer with yes, no, maybe, and I don’t know. It gave his team no insight about him as Natasha stared him down. The rest secretly sighed and continued on. Maybe make a joke, and not see Tony laugh. Flinching became apart of Tony’s life. Every time someone talked or approached Tony without him knowing, Tony would slightly flinch. And every time Thor would just talk Tony would flinch the most. 

Thor would say, “Are you ok, friend Stark?” In his loud voice. 

Tony would smile with his forced smile. This smile that made him feel ugly inside. That smile he couldn’t get rid of. 

“I’m fine” he would say right after his flinch. 

The “I’m fine” soon grew weary to them. He knew he wasn’t fine. They knew he wasn’t fine. But no one knew how to approach him. Tony didn’t even know how to approach himself with this. 

It was unstoppable. 

——

Steve awoken with a jolt. It was dark, but it was light, he was sweaty, but it was cool. There were flames and sunlight and fake laughs and hard faces. There were monsters and tears and dust. There was a sunset and-and a forest and the voices. There were laughs, screams and weeps. All coming at him from all different directions, pulling at him to help, at him to do something. Anything! There was rubble, and weeps, and screams, and fire and light and heat and and-

But it was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. 

It was cool. It was dark. It was quite and it was clean. 

It wasn’t there.

He got out of the bed and stepped on the covers he kicked to the floor. It was soft and he was cold. Steve put on some joggers and a t-shirt. He turned around and looked in the mirror. Hair matted and swaying in all directions, tear marks on his face, glossy eyes and big ears. This was Steve. A man who really wasn’t made for the nightmares, the tears and the thoughts. He was made for muscle, he thought, muscle and might. 

The gym could provide muscle and might. He walked towards the elevator, everything in his path was quite and dead. No noise, no light, no life. 

“Jarvis, who’s awake right now?” He asked with an ashamed nod. He really needed someone with him, to talk this out with, someone who understood him. 

“No one except Sir, Mr. Rogers. He’s in the gym but I doubt he wants company.” Jarvis answered. 

‘Oh ok’ thought Steve. 

“But I’m not saying he doesn’t need it.” Continued Jarvis as he led Steve towards the gym through the elevator. Once at the gym he could just hear punches and grunts. Punches and Punches over and over again. He watched at the wall where he knew Tony couldn’t see him. Stark kept on punching. And punching and punching. Then went with speed. The bag was swaying and Steve thought it could fall off the rack. He slowly walked towards Tony, saying his name loudly but got no answer. 

Then Tony fell to his knees. 

Steve could hear the soft tears. The soft sobs and heaving breaths. He could hear the exhausting weight that tony held. How Tony finally fell under it defeated. Defeated wasn’t a word that should be used to describe Tony Stark, thought Steve. He had never seen this side of tony before, barely anyone had so he froze up. He watched for a few seconds, just wanting to see what would happen. If tony would stand up, wipe his tears and go back to the punching bag. Get back on that step and hold the weight with pride. But he didn’t. He just didn’t; he was crying harder and using his gloves to wipe them away but more always came. 

Steve sat next to him and leaned Tony into himself. He could feel Tony shaking as the sobs wracked his body. Tony just let it happen and didn’t really care. He needed this, the human touch, but mostly he needed to get this out of him. The ugly feeling that he’s not enough. That’s he’s weak and that he’s not worth anything and that he shouldn’t be here! He’s only here on borrowed time that he stole! That he should be dead! 

The two stayed like that for a while. Just tony silently crying and Steve just rubbed his back. Steve’s mom used to do that when he was sick, which was just about every month. And she would sing to him, just a simple lullaby, but he thought Tony wouldn’t really appreciate that. Steve didn’t want him to think that he was weak enough to get an lullaby. That he was acting like a child when it was acceptable to cry and get angry. 

“You do this often?” Steve asked not making eye contact. 

“The crying like a baby or the boxing?” Tony said as he made a weak attempt of a chuckle. 

“Your choice.”

“I’ve been boxing for a while and crying forever, thanks for asking.” Tony answered.

His voice was strained as if he was stopping more tears from falling. It was weak and dreary, like he just got soaked in the rain after a hard day at work. Like he was this close to snapping and he really didn’t want to. Not the angry snap, mind you, but the one where people give up. They just stop and think and stop their lives. Given up on the hope and happiness that they knew will never come. To hear this voice from Tony Stark kinda let Steve down. He was used to seeing Tony laughing and smiling and being inappropriate. Teasing people and working with a purpose. But now, he really didn’t see anything. Just a lonely man crying out his fears and insecurities. 

With that, Tony rose away from Steve and started to ground himself and wipe away the remaining tears. Tony took off his gloves and just stared at Rogers. It wasn’t a deep stare or anything, just something simple to try the understand the way Steve was watching him. Eyes that told him he was going to shatter like glass in any second. And Tony Stark wasn’t supposed to be glass, he wasn’t supposed to be looked at that way. He wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t. 

“Thanks Rogers, and everything. . . Let’s. . Let’s get going . . .” Tony stuttered as he started to get up and walk away. 

Steve didn’t get it. How could he just go from crying my heart out to this cool persona. Steve couldn’t do that, Steve wouldn’t want to do that if he just broke down. He would want to talk about it like any normal person, but Tony Stark was not any normal person. And Steve thought that was weird. 

He raced after Tony but stopped. Steve didn’t remember why he even came to the gym anymore , but what was most important was why tony wouldn’t tell him what’s wrong. He remembered how Rhodey explained Tony and his secret way of hiding things. Things meaning his feelings and reasons for his actions. The only person he would share with was Pepper, but she was halfway across the world at this rate. So Steve stayed behind. Just watching Tony as he walked, trying to differentiate between what was a slump and a bad breath and a sigh. What was he actually thinking instead of his simple actions of walking to his room. So he just stayed behind, watching and waiting. 

Then Tony went around a conner, to a room Steve had never seem before and silently slipped in closing the door shut. Then Steve heard a loud thud and a word he much rather not repeat. 

But this was new. He really didn’t think Tony had a room, he would always just come out of the lab at about lunch. He thought the lab was Tony’s room. But he couldn’t blame himself. Well he could, for Steve didn’t really try to learn more about Tony but no one really did. They just put him in the asshole category and left it at that. 

Steve walked up to the door. He was about to knock but paused. He didn’t want to seem like a stalker and that he didn’t trust tony. Or make tony feel that he needed to be watched. 

He finally connected his fist to the door and asked, “Are you going to be here for breakfast tomorrow?”. The door opened revealing a somewhat sleepy tony with a large blanket engulfing his tiny figure. 

“What?” 

“Are you coming for breakfast?” Steve asked again as he fidgeted with his hands. 

“Umm Yeah, I guess. But your gonna have to wake me up.” 

“Got it!” Steve said with a smile as he went towards his room. Tony just watched and pondered. 

Why was breakfast so important? And why did he have to be there? He didn’t usually eat breakfast, he didn’t even know what you would eat for a ‘family’ breakfast. And he probably wasn’t going to eat it anyway. 

He soon learned how chaotic it was. Steve was cooking and it smelled sweet. Everyone came in, one by one, pajamas in a disarray after Steve went and got Tony. Tony brought a blanket with him, in the same clothes he wore last night, with messy matted hair. Tony laid his head on the countertop, blanket over most his head but he did spot the surprised faces from his team. It gave him a smile. 

Steve continued to cook while everyone quietly chatted. But tony just laid his head down, blanket now completely over his face drifting off to sleep. Once walking in his room last night, he just laid in the bed eyes wide open unable to sleep. His mind was racing with bad thoughts. With anxiety. With how quite it was. But most importantly, with what Steve would think of him. Would he tell the rest? Would he continue to worry and watch him? Would he use it as something to bring him down? Would he not care?

So he couldn’t get any sleep you see. 

And Steve was cooking. It looked like he wasn’t going to get done anytime soon. Maybe in 15 minutes. And 15 minutes was that Tony needed. They wouldn’t care, they already knew the drill. Tony Stark didn’t do breakfast. And this was a new experience for the team, seeing Tony all groggy and sleepy at this ungodly time in the morning as he would call it. They could hear the soft barely audible snores that escaped Tony’s mouth. And they just watched him. They watched his silent movements, such as how he constantly moved his head to each side, or how his fingers moved every few seconds. It was as if he was always on edge. 

“Tony! Tony! Wake up!” Steve said into his ear as he set Tony’s plate down. This new groggy Tony was kinda cute to him, you know. Just the sleepy eyes and slow movements that made Steve’s heart burst. It was a different scene than seeing Tony always moving and being energetic. Tony slowly moved and started to wave Steve off but Steve rubbed his back for him to get up. 

“No.”

“You know you can’t sleep here. And your foods ready. Come on Tony just get up.” Steve suggested. Tony sat up and looked around. The small smiles caused some embarrassment but he didn’t really care. He was tired and after this he was going on the couch to sleep. That was his mission. Eat some food and sleep. Eat some food and sleep. 

Eat some blueberry pancakes and sleep. 

Wait what? 

Blueberry pancakes were Tony’s favorite breakfast for when he did eat it. He remembered when he was young and his parents would make them together. But that was when he was really young. Toddler age young. But how did Steve know? Or maybe it was a coincidence? Or maybe Jarvis told him? The smell lured him in and they looked perfectly sweet. The light blue and brown colors with powdered sugar and blueberries on the side looked aesthetically pleasing.

He dug in. He ate pretty slowly but soon picked up the pace once everyone else had eaten their food. And the pancakes were good. Like really good. Almost better than his mom’s and dad’s. So he ate them all. Tony didn’t worry about how hard he was going to puke later or if he was at all. Tony didn’t care about what the rest were thinking or let his anxiety get the better of him. Tony just didn’t worry. And who cared about what he ate and how much and if he ate at all. 

It was just him. And he wasn’t important. 

Nothing to worry about here. 

But they noticed. Steve noticed. Bruce noticed. Natasha noticed. Clint noticed. Thor didn’t but he watched as well so whatever. This was really the only meal tony would actually eat more than his worth. And they took notice of what he would eat. Nothing with eggs. No scrambled eggs, no boiled eggs, no omelets. He would eat any of the Russian breakfast foods Natasha would cook or any country breakfast Clint would cook. He would eat just about anything except eggs. And that was cool. If any of them wanted eggs they would have to ask Steve and he would make them. Then Tony would go to the couch and sleep. Sometimes he just slept with his head on their laps. 

This had become routine. 

And that was ok. 

What wasn’t ok was the after. After breakfast, after Tony’s nap they would call it. He would wake up defensive and on edge. Even move to a different couch. 

But today he didn’t come for breakfast. Steve went and got him but was answered with an ‘go away’ that sounded sad and lonely. Steve let him stay in bed. Really he didn’t know what to do but knew that Tony needed to be alone. 

Breakfast that morning was dull. And it was going to stay dull till Tony was back. No more sleepy snores, no more fights to get him to eat eggs, no more blankets at the table, no more Tony it seemed. 

So they ate quietly. Staring at his desolated spot and each other. He would come, they thought, he had been here for the last week. He would come. He had to come. 

“Steve go get him again.” Clint suggested staring at the kitchen opening. He and Tony weren’t close but they still cared for each although acting like assholes towards the other. Clint mostly starting the arguments but he cared. He hoped Tony knew that. He did care. 

They all cared. . . enough. 

Enough to get off their asses and go get him from his room. Enough to actually drag him to the kitchen to eat. 

But Tony didn’t want to do that. So he just sat there looking at the fresh warm waffles not making any movement towards them. 

“Tony just eat! We know your hungry and your just acting like a stubborn five year old. It’s immature you know.” Bruce pushed. 

“I will act like the most stubborn five year old ever.” Tony said with a sneer. They stared it off for a while till Bruce broke. 

“Tony! Why won’t you just open up a little bit? We are trying to help you and you just push us away. Just let us help.” Steve said at an slightly raise tone. He was irritated with the man. They tried to help, he would give in then back right out. He would make some process then undo it within one thought. It was like he was jumping into a pool, then immediately regreted his decision. The wet water was just a reminder to Tony about his past, Steve thought. And maybe it was. Maybe he just didn’t want to remember but it always came back. Like the tide at a beach. It would always come back. 

“Because I don’t know fucking how to, ok! I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know! Everywhere I turn, there’s a reminder. A reminder of how fucking weak I am. So maybe just doing things on my own is how I deal with my damn life. And I’m sorry I flinch when I see you. And when I just can’t connect like you guys do. I know that, I do. But maybe I just can’t do this, whatever this is, with others ok? I just can’t!” His voice was loud and filled with fragility, but once on his faults it turned sad and broken. 

He was sad and broken. Maybe he would always be like this. A fragile man with a broken heart trapped in a glass box. And he was fake. No one knew the real him but no one wanted to know. He couldn’t trust anyone with that. Because . . . because they would crush him into a dusk. They would see him as glass that couldn’t be used because of its jagged and soft edges. He wasn’t safe. The way he would feel was dangerous. He was dangerous. 

“It would get better-“

“Don’t start with that ‘it will get better’ bullshit Rogers. Don’t lie to me. Please don’t lie to me.” Tony interrupted. Lies gave him false hope. And false hope gave him false happiness. And he really didn’t have the time for things to be false. He needed the facts, he needed the statistics and the logic. He didn’t need lies.

They all looked around at each other. They didn’t know what to say or what to do. 

“Well can you at least eat the waffles.” 

Tony held a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He let out all his emotions, well some of them, and that was a huge step forward for him. Speaking his needs and his mixed feelings wasn’t something he would do willing. But they didn’t care. They didn’t hear a damn thing he said. His so called friends didn’t care, no one else cared. They only cared about those fucking waffles it seemed. It goes back to the reason of doing things alone. Being alone was safe. But Tony popped his bubble of safety to try to reach out and came out more hurt than before. Anger flared in his eyes as he stared at them. And they had the gull to expect him to say something or more importantly eat something. 

“I’m going to the lab. Don’t bother following me!” 

He wasn’t going to yell. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to go and loathe. He was going to build something. Take his mind off of his fucked up world. They didn’t deserve a response from him. 

He walked through his secret doors and hallways to find himself at the lab door. But he couldn’t go in. The wires and machinery sent him into a panic. His kidnappers took the one and only thing that was his in his own home. His safe haven ripped away from him by the trauma. So he went to the gym. The boxing ring specially. It wasn’t tainted with a bloody streak or harsh memories. It was an actual safe place, unless you got your ass whooped. 

But he wasn’t here for that. 

He was here to think and calm down. 

They were just trying to help out, right? Yeah they were, they had been for the last two weeks! And I fucking pushed them away. I’m just letting this shit get to me for no reason. I didn’t let Afghanistan get to me like this so why are bastards messing with me? Oh that’s right, I don’t have Pepper. And Pepper probably hates me now. Everyone probably hates me now. I even hate me. I should just disappear for a while. Figure out my shit. 

Tony had dived deep into his pits of emotional despair enough to not have noticed Natasha following him. She loosely followed behind and watched him think. After a few silent minutes she quietly sat next to him and leaning into to him to provide comfort. Tony slightly flinched but raised his head to see who it was. He was a little shocked per say. 

“I’m good Nat . . really. No need for all this secret agent comfort sessions.” 

“No your not.” 

They just sat there as the other team members slowly made their way to the gym. They all came in and made some form of contact, a soft pat on his shoulder or full on leading on him, but formed a close tight bubble. 

“Look Tony, we get it. We’ve all been through it. It’s in the job description, but what we didn’t have was others to help us through it. You don’t have to trust us or anything but you can’t just keep going on like this. We’re here to help with being your friends.” Bruce lectured. 

“It’s ok to not be ok, you know. What’s not ok is going through it alone when we can help.” Natasha continued. 

“Ok, ok I get it. You guys can help and I can let you help. Now can we please end the heartfelt conversation.” Tony interrupted before everyone else could say anything. 

Tony didn’t know that they all cared this much. No one really cared this much for him except Rhodey and Pepper. He got a warm feeling in his heart that he wasn’t used to. 

And maybe he could get used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Byeeee. Tony doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just going through life.


End file.
